by Anya Summers
By the time they’d finished applying makeup, she hardly recognized her own image. She wanted to ask them who the attractive, well-groomed woman in the mirror was. It was a hundred times better than the hack job she had done for the strip club. And all the products they had used, from the face wash to the lotion and the mascara, were boxed up for her to take with her.
There were bags of it: hundreds of dollars’ worth, possibly more. With what Sabrina earned normally, it would have taken her two years of hustling and working extra hours to afford half of these products, let alone a full spa treatment like today.
The simple jeans and knit top in a pale mauve that she wore hardly complemented the job the spa personnel had done on her. She felt sexy and powerful in her womanhood for the first time in her life. It was a heady experience.
“You’ll come see us again, Miss Sabrina. We enjoyed having you with us today,” the makeup technician, Sandy, stated kindly as she walked her to the front of the spa.
“Yes. I would like that very much.” More than the woman could possibly imagine.
“Great. Why don’t we book another appointment for you? If you need to cancel or reschedule, you just need to do it twenty-four hours in advance. Would you like to book for next month?” Sandy asked her with a smile.
Her knee jerk reaction was to dismiss it and say no, that she couldn’t afford it. But that was the old Sabrina. A month from now, money wasn’t going to be an issue. Heck, it wasn’t one now, with the advance she had already been given that was sitting in her account. “That would be lovely. I would enjoy that very much.”
“Perfect. Let me just get you scheduled. Your boyfriend already took care of the bill.” Sandy nodded past her.
Sabrina looked into the small waiting area. Dante rose, and his gaze caressed her from head to toe. She shivered at the approval in his dark stare and the way his eyes stopped at her lips that were painted a pale mauve and, with a few tricks of makeup, looked even plumper than normal. The praise in Dante’s perusal, the hot flicker of lust he doused quickly, pleased her the most, because it seemed he was remembering their kiss, and hungered for another taste.
Everything inside Sabrina longed to feel his mouth against hers once more, and craved his kiss with wild abandon. It was wrong that she wanted him when she was supposed to be acting like another man’s fiancée. But she also couldn’t deny how she felt, or what being near him did to her.
“You look lovely,” Dante murmured, his regard warm, like molten dark chocolate.
“Here’s a reminder card with your appointment. We’ll call you as well.” Sandy handed Sabrina the wallet-sized card with the date scrawled on it.
“Thanks so much. I’ve had the best time.”
“Let me take those for you.” Dante took the bags from her hands and whisked her out the door to his waiting vehicle.
“Did you enjoy yourself?” he asked, storing her packages in the trunk.
“Very much. Thank you for today. I feel like a princess,” Sabrina admitted, suddenly worried that it was all some fantastical dream. That she would wake up in her bed and be staring at eviction notices once more.
Back in the driver’s seat, once they were both buckled in, Dante left the parking lot and said, “You certainly look like a princess now. But today’s not over yet, we’ve plenty more on the agenda. I got us a lunch reservation at Commander’s Palace. I hope that’s suitable for you.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Commander’s Palace? Really?”
He slanted her a look as he drove. “Is that a problem? It’s close to the penthouse, and I thought we could drop your things off there after we eat before we head out to some of the clothing shops I had in mind for today. That way, the stuff in the back won’t melt and leak out all over my upholstery.”
“No. No problem with eating there. I’ve never been, and know that it’s pricy,” Sabrina replied, and wanted to kick herself. Of course, he wouldn’t think about the cost. He and Michael had loads of money.
“You don’t have to worry about money, Sabrina. With this deal, you won’t have to worry about it ever again,” Dante said with a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“But I don’t know that I’m dressed properly for a restaurant of that caliber.” She glanced down at her clothes, thinking they resembled those of a street waif, and not someone who frequented an establishment like Commander’s Palace.
Dante shrugged. “We have a private room. And you look edible. There’s nothing wrong with the way you look.”
She wasn’t going to point out that her clothes were old and heading toward threadbare. If he didn’t care what she wore to a place like that, then she wouldn’t either. “So, I have a question.”
“Shoot.”
“How long have you and Michael been together, and been adding a woman to your bedroom activities?”
Dante laughed. Eyeing his profile, she watched as crinkle lines appeared next to his eyes while he pulled into a parking space near the restaurant. He turned her way and shoved his sunglasses up on his forehead, giving her the full brunt of his stare. “Michael and I have been topping submissives together for eight years now, but we aren’t a couple, not in the traditional sense of the word.”
Confused, she scrunched her forehead. “But… I don’t understand. You live together and sleep in the same room. I know you’re into BDSM, and I just figured that…”
“Love, do you really think either Michael or I could be a submissive?” He bit his bottom lip as he grinned, like he was trying not to laugh outright at her assumption.
Yes, she had believed they were lovers and brought a woman into their bed occasionally. But the knowledge that she had been wrong in her assumption, that the only sex stuff they did was with a woman between them and that was it, altered everything. Not that there would have been anything wrong with it if she been right, but this still changed it for her. Especially since there was a part of Sabrina that yearned to be the woman between them. “Yeah, I guess not, but you don’t have a permanent woman… sorry, submissive, in your lives. Why is that?”
A shadow passed over his gaze and then was squelched before he responded. “Because in the real world, a ménage relationship doesn’t work for most people, and that’s what it would be. A submissive committing herself to both Michael and me, and it’s a lot to take on—we are a lot to take on. One of the reasons we’re in this mess is because of archaic preconceived notions about what a committed adult relationship is supposed to look like. The submissive would also need to have a healthy appetite for sex, as we’re both demanding in that regard. Most women can’t handle being with two dominant men for more than a few nights.”
“But what about things like marriage and kids? I mean, Michael is one of the most eligible bachelors in the world. And you’re no slouch yourself. I’m surprised women aren’t beating down your door.” There was a part of Sabrina that was infinitely jealous of whoever the lucky lady would be who would steal their hearts and complete their triad.
“Of course we want that. In our situation, it would be Michael who would marry, but I would do a civil ceremony as well. The mystery woman would be wife to us both, bear children for us both,” Dante explained, studying her with that intense gaze of his and watching her reaction.
“Oh,” she replied with a whisper, imagining the kind of security that would offer; that there would always be someone available to lean on. No more having to figure everything out alone and pray that she was making the right choices. Inside, she was jumping up and down, yelling: pick me, pick me!
A sly, seductive grin spread over his lips. “Yeah. There’s nothing quite as erotic as feeling a woman come undone between us while we both screw her brains out. Not every woman can handle double penetration, though. Why? You interested?”
“Yes,” she sputtered before she realized what she was saying, and felt the blush creep up her neck. Double penetration? But that would mean one man’s dick penetrating a woman in the traditional fashion, and the other in
the forbidden back channel. It sounded downright depraved. And yet her nether region tingled with desire at the thought of being taken that way. “Um… no, I don’t know. I was just interested in the situation.”
“Uh huh. Well, anytime you change your mind, you let me know.” He leaned in close. “Think about it: being sandwiched between Michael and me while we make you come, screaming. Haven’t you ever wondered what it would be like to have two men worship you?”
“I’ve imagined one, but as I don’t even know what that would be like as I’ve never done it before…” she trailed off and blanched, realizing how much she had admitted. She wanted to crawl in a hole somewhere and ignore the shocked expression on Dante’s face.
Before she could retreat, he gripped her chin. “Sabrina, are you telling me that you’re a virgin?”
Ashamed, she closed her eyes, not wanting to see the mockery she knew would be in his. With a ragged whisper, she replied, “Yes.”
“Look at me, love,” he ordered softly, and waited for her to comply.
When she lifted her lids and her gaze met his, he surprised her because there was no mockery or sneering, only compassion.
“Now tell me: why are you still untouched?” he asked, rubbing his thumb hypnotically over her bottom lip. Tingles of pleasure left her sighing.
“My mom got sick when I was sixteen. Instead of dating and thinking about boys after school, I was helping to take care of her, Alex, and working part time to support us. Then, when she died three years later, I had still had Alex to care for. There’s never been any time for dating or experiencing sex. And from what I’ve learned of men—or at least the ones I’ve been acquainted with who displayed an interest in doing one, or both—the moment they understood the scope of my responsibilities, they couldn’t run away fast enough.”
Dante’s eyes smoldered. Sabrina was prepared for it, for his lips to touch hers. But like the night prior, she wasn’t ready for the sucker punch of desire that was akin to plugging her body into an electrical grid upon contact. And, unlike last night, he was gentle with his kiss, seducing her with light brushes and nibbles. His stubble grazed her flesh and she shivered.
There was this need inside her, building with each caress and press of his mouth, as he parted her lips and sought entry to tangle with her tongue. Maybe it was because she had been forced to suppress her natural desire for so many years that, given the opportunity, it all but exploded like a dam breaking. She threw her arms around his neck, gripped his nape to imprison his mouth, and cursed the seatbelt holding her back from climbing into his lap.
Dante growled against her lips.
He actually growled.
Sabrina had no idea why, but that sound coming from a man as worldly as Dante, who had seen and done as much as he had, was intoxicating. Dante unbuckled her seatbelt for her. Thank god. Then he hauled her into his lap, surrounding her with his large form so that she was swamped by the feel of him. And through it all, his lips never left her mouth. He fisted his hands in her hair, tugged her head back, slanted his lips more firmly, and proceeded to ravage her mouth.
She grabbed handfuls of his hair, holding his lips in place, wanting, needing, more from him. She moaned in the back of her throat.
Dante tore his mouth from hers. Lust had turned his gaze black. His breathing was ragged as he stared at her. “I want you, Sabrina, Christ knows I do, but I won’t take you in the front seat of my car. And if we continue, I will. Your first time should be more than a sweaty fuck in the front seat of a car.”
“Oh. I suppose you’re right.” She was mortified beyond belief. What had she been thinking? She retreated off his lap back into her seat, and instantly missed his warmth. She wanted to burrow into him. He made her feel safe for the first time in longer than she could remember.
“Hey,” he cupped her cheek, “this isn’t a rejection, love. Please don’t think that. I just think that outside the Palace is the wrong place for your first time. And then there’s the little fact that you’re supposed to be Michael’s fiancée. It wouldn’t look good for us to be seen this way, like we are cuckolding Michael behind his back.”
It all made sense. He was right. Michael was paying her ten million dollars to pretend to be his fiancée. She couldn’t screw it up. “That’s true. I wasn’t thinking. You kiss me and my head goes all wonky. But you will? Take me to bed and be with me that way?”
Dante flashed her a sultry smile. “Love, once you are living with us, I will be only too happy to spend hours worshiping that sweet little body of yours and teaching you all there is to know about lovemaking.”
She shivered at his naughty proposal and nodded. “I’d like that.”
“And maybe, if you are really brave, you might like to try lovemaking with both Michael and me.” Dante dangled the enticing possibility.
The thought left her breathless. That this magnetic, handsome man wanted her left her giddy. The decadent idea of experiencing sex with not only him, but Michael as well, caused honeyed nectar to heat her veins. And for the life of her, Sabrina couldn’t think of anything she wanted more than to be loved by the two alphas.
Chapter 7
Dante returned to the penthouse later that night after a full day with Sabrina. He would head down to the club in a little while to check in on things; serve for an hour or so as Dungeon Monitor, which he tried to do most nights. But first, he and Michael needed to talk about Sabrina—for a number of reasons.
One of the most pressing was where she had been living all this time. The seriously rough neighborhood, and state of her living conditions had appalled Dante—not because he was ashamed of her, but because he was ashamed of himself and Michael for not being more aware of her situation or taking more of an interest in her, making sure she had a better place to live.
She did everything for them here, and had been for going on two years. She cleaned the penthouse. Cooked meals for them and stored them so all the men had to do was heat them up. Cleaned the third and fourth floors. Took clothing that needed it to the cleaners. Did their laundry, and basically made their lives run seamlessly.
It was the fact that she had been cleaning for them all this time, taking care of their needs and whims without him having an inkling of the dire straits she was in that bothered him.
That changed; now and forevermore. He would never allow her into such dire conditions again.
He located Michael in the dining room, sitting at the mahogany table with stacks of files and a legal yellow notepad he was writing on while talking on his cell. He held up a finger to signal that he would be with Dante in a moment. Dante was too agitated to sit just yet. He walked into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water, then strode back into the dining room. The penthouse was an open floor plan with everything but the bedrooms.
“Thanks a lot, Quinten. I appreciate it.” Michael hung up.
“What did Quinten want? Did he find anything?” Dante asked him.
“He’s got his search on the board members up and running. It might take him a week or two, but his program is one of the most thorough out there. Plus, I had him look deeper into Sabrina’s background. Before we announce her as my fake fiancée at the end of the week, I want to make sure there are no skeletons in her closet that could be dragged out to blindside us.”
Dante took a seat in one of the chairs and said, “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Sabrina. A couple of things with regards to her, actually, since I spent the better part of the day with her. She’ll pass muster appearance-wise, by the way, after her stint at the spa.”
Michael leaned back in his chair with a pensive expression. “Hit me with it.”
“Did you know how badly off she was? Or where exactly she has been living the entire time she’s been working for us?” Dante asked, and took a drink of water.
Michael scratched his beard and shook his head in the negative. “To be honest, I never really gave it a thought. Why? Is it bad?”
“Dude, she lives in the Seventh
Ward,” Dante said, waiting to see Michael’s reaction.
Michael’s brows rose almost up to his hairline. “Excuse me?”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought when my GPS navigation took me there. The street she and her brother live on is rough. There were gang members congregating on the corner not a block from her house.”
“What the fuck, really? Why the hell didn’t she ever say anything?” Michael gestured in frustration.
“I don’t think she’s had anyone to give a shit, or to turn to. It might not have ever crossed her mind to come to us. I think pride is a factor. When I mentioned something to that effect, she grew real bristly. Although, the house is clean—spotless actually, if a mite run down. Not a whole lot of furniture, from what little I could see, and most of it looked old and second hand.”
“And the brother?”
“You can definitely see the family resemblance. Doped up on medication, with a day nurse who has worked with them for a while, it seems. From the information I was able to glean from Sabrina, he’s got schizophrenia and, from the looks of it, it’s bad.”
Michael placed his elbows on the table and steepled his hands together. “So he’s not just sick, he’s mentally ill with no hope of recovery.”
“Yep. That about sums it up. You should have seen her at the spa and when we went shopping this afternoon.” Dante would remember her unexpected joy, as well as her innocent trust in him.
“I noticed the haul in the bedroom.” Michael smiled.
“Yeah, well, watching her, the surprise and wonder on her face, it was a sight to behold. I don’t think I will forget it for a long time.”
“Then this arrangement between us will end up being mutually beneficial for both parties. That’s good. I was a little worried that we entered into the agreement way too fast, before Quinten could reassess her background.”